


On the Bank of an Ever-shifting River (And the World is Wrong)

by zarabithia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Some spoilers for Captain America: Civil War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This war is a lot different, for a lot of reasons. Maybe it would be better, if Nat or Thor were here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Bank of an Ever-shifting River (And the World is Wrong)

**Author's Note:**

> So I hope it's clear that I don't think Nat's choice is actually a betrayal and that Steve is an unreliable narrator here...but in case it's not, here's an author's note making that clear.

Steve is no stranger to war. Ultron had said as much, and in truth, Steve has fought much longer battles than what the American press is calling the “Superhero Civil War.”

_(“Ignorant white person bullshit to call it that,” Sam announces at the headline, before going to spar with Sharon.)_

But this one drags on without any ending in sight. This one makes Steve feel more tired than the super soldier serum should allow.

_(“It’s stress,” Sam tells him. “From trying to keep from feeling betrayed. Especially by Romanoff.” And then Sam goes off to spare with Sharon again, because bringing up Nat might be something only Sam has the right to do, but it doesn’t mean that Steve doesn't get cranky when Sam does.)_

In this one, he is not fighting against racist monsters. He is not fighting Nazis. He is not fighting an empire who wants to kill and destroy the innocent. He’s fighting the son of a long dead friend and companions he would have died in battle to save.

_(“The person that you’d take a bullet for is behind the trigger,” Scott says casually in a cramped kitchen. Bucky breaks a glass that he holds on too a little too tightly and Scott’s eyes widen in embarrassment. “I meant - okay, that sounded terrible, but - ”_

_“Shut up, Lang,” Clint says, and the line that his lips form as he goes off on his own to spar … well, if Steve felt a little less selfish, maybe he’d remind himself that Clint has a greater right to feeling betrayed than Steve does.)_

It’s not as though Steve ever liked Howard’s son, and the others … well. He was never close to them, he tells himself.

Besides Natasha, he thinks, but he thinks it a second too late because Bucky and Sam have already gone off to spare without him and Sharon is taking a much needed television break with Scott; he hears bits and pieces about children and legacies and he tries not to feel the sharp pain of loss over children that he’s never had, the way he is never quite able to prevent whenever there is a Carter in his presence.

In this one, the lines are blurry, the public is not on his side, and he feels like he is standing on the bank of an ever-shifting river telling the whole world that they are wrong.

He does not doubt his convictions, but sometimes a person he used to call a teammate uses the word “arrogant” on the never-ending PR runs, and it’s enough to make Steve wonder if Erskine’s words of caution have gone unheeded.

_(Steve hasn’t done those PR-runs since he was a chorus girl, he thinks with a rare moment of smug satisfaction, before he pours his no-longer rationed coffee down the sink because it’s gone cold. His mother would be so disappointed in the waste, he thinks, as he watches it circle the drain.)_

In this war, Steve has friends, just as he had in the last one.

But the last one taught him how fleeting those friends could be, and each time he looks at them, he wonders which of them he will lose this time around. Which one of them will he have to give up because they were ready to follow Captain America into the gates of hell?

_(“That boy from Brooklyn,” Bucky’s old voice sing-songs in Steve’s head, not sounding anything like the broken man that has returned in Bucky’s body._

_But in truth, Steve cannot say how many of them would have followed that little boy. Bucky, yes. Sam, yes. He would have said Natasha, once. He’d been wrong.)_

In the last war, he’d never seemed to have a moment’s of time to himself. Tents and headquarters had always seemed overwhelming with the presence of Peggy, Bucky, Howard .. and a list of names that still tears at Steve’s heart to even think of, because they have slipped through his fingers even more permanently than Peggy and Bucky have.

But in this one, his teammates pair off, either to bed or to spar. Sometimes they invite him, but more often than not, it feels like an obligation to include him.

Steve doesn’t know whose side the obligation is felt most strongly on, but either way, he declines as much as his conscience will allow.

_(“It’s one thing if you need alone time,” Sam tells him. And Steve expects more, but Sam’s lips thin together, and both Steve and Sam are left waiting for a … more that never comes.)_

In this war, Steve tempts Tony Stark and fate by standing on the roof of an abandoned publishing house owned by the family of a friend that Clint won’t name. Steve eats a dinner provided by the same unknown benefactor and looks up at the sky.

The clouds are full of the promise of a storm. Steve feels a deep phantom pain in limbs that no longer ache each time the rain falls from the heavens, in anticipation of what’s on its way. They’re the kind of clouds that Steve would have spent his childhood trying to draw, because it was distracting from the pain in his joints.

But the urge to draw has been replaced by an incredible urge to shout up at sky.

_(“Nobody’s seen either Big Guy since Ultron was defeated,” Clint points out in the middle of a strategy meeting meeting that makes Steve desperately miss Peggy’s input._

_“You think Stark put them in a container somewhere?” Scott asks. “You think … he can do that?”_

_“Not Thor,” Steve says._

_“You think he could contain The Hulk, but not Thor?” Clint asks skeptically._

_“Banner would allow it; Thor never would.”)_

Steve’s egg salad grows cold as he waits for the rain to materialize. His patience grows even more thin than it has been of late.

“I thought you chose us,” he says aloud finally. He doesn’t know why he is still looking at the clouds. It’s foolish. Thor isn’t a god. He doesn’t live in the heavens. Asgard … well. Steve’s not too sure where Asgard is, frankly. But he knows that he is staring skyward with the same hope that his mother used to while clutching her rosary.

_(“It’s okay to miss her,” Wanda says, as blunt as ever. Her truth has always been something that Steve appreciated. But today it cuts through him the way his coughs used to. “It’s okay to miss him, too.”_

_“Natasha made her choices,” Steve says shortly. It feels petty, but not as much as what he says next. “He’s a prince. I’m sure he has different priorities.”)_

Natasha had been vicious and cunning, and Steve had adored having her brains added to the team. But Thor had brought a different set of skills. Thor had brought sheer bulk and a person that Steve didn’t have to worry about unloading on during sparring practice.

The Hulk and Bucky could stand the enhancements the super soldier serum made to Steve’s body, but both bring … complications. Thor had simply met each challenge with an enthusiastic challenge of his own.

The phantom pain in Steve’s limbs suspiciously linger near where Thor had placed his hands to hold Steve in place.

_(“It’s not just Widow, then?” Bucky asks Sam one day, and Steve is not supposed to hear that particular question._

_He’s not supposed to hear Sam’s reply, either._

_“No,” Sam says. “You know Steve, always falling head over heels for his sparring buddies.”)_

When the rain comes, it comes down all at once, furious and hard against Steve’s skin. In Steve’s last life, the force would have been enough to leave bruises.

It’s unrelenting and no matter how much Steve blinks, his vision is still clouded by the wall of water falling from the sky.

Thor is not actually the god of thunder. Neither the rain nor the low rumble of thunder that Steve can hear in the distance are an answer.

But Steve clings to it as a promise that Thor hasn’t forgotten - that the smiles and touches they once exchanged have not been as forgotten as easily as … other allegiances have been.

His optimism is ridiculous.

But so is this war, and Steve feels helpless to stop either of them.


End file.
